Company's coming, and i know they have a salad with every dinner. But when i peruse the vegetable section at the food co-op, i see that all the lettuces come from California. The cabbage, however, comes from 10 miles away. In my spotty attempt to be a localvore, i buy the cabbage and leave the petroleum-driven lettuce alone.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCAn4hNRqhdLjvuVgFpJs-jWNam2nx8xVOLk_pK6wG-H6Wx5jX53t9lv1wYQxTIe4xI70wgcfqnagsi1bR6ai2GvJ-DzghVOEVs8s-wLIZ1HRH2fhqFriK8psr0JJ5hXnm5UwSyqt7T43/s320/IMG_2993.JPG)
Fortunately, my 12-year-old granddaughter is game for the challenge of cabbage salad. She chops and dices, and makes her own salad dressing. Yes, there's a yellow pepper from Holland in the mix. What can i say?
The voluntary simplicity of localvoring can feel like insufficiency or it can feel like a challenge to our curiosity and creativity.
"I don't have enough" vs. "I wonder how we can make this work."
The cabbage salad is beautiful and tasty.
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